Tricksters
by Marystormshade
Summary: A oneshot between Reaver and an OC. An old friend comes to visit Reaver but they do much more than talk, and for some reason they keep mentioning tricks. Rated M for a reason a.k.a. not for kids my first Lemon, R&R.


She smiled gently as she walked along the side of the path, sidling up along brush, occasionally losing herself to the scenery around her. She found Millfields boring, always had. She ran her fingers through her tresses and lost herself to the sound of a twig snapping beneath her feet. She crouched and peered forward into the lit mansion. Perhaps Reaver would have some new…tricks he could show her. She sauntered languidly into the knots and arms of trees: She had some new tricks as well.

(…line break…)

He hummed gently to himself as he ran his fingers over the pristine silver engravings which laced his beauty of a pistol. He scowled as he noted a drunken man (he couldn't be bothered to remember names) fall haphazardly down the stairs. A resounding 'crack' assured him that the man wouldn't be getting back up.

He ignored the laughter of the men and women in the other room, clearly enjoying themselves. He would have joined them but he was tired of the constant bedraggled faces craving his attention…oh what he would do to shoot them dead. He looked up at the sound of a gentle thud. He grinned lecherously.

"Honestly Reaver…I always thought you were a man of more tastes…such people you surround yourself with." She stepped forward and eyed his pointedly. He matched her by dragging his eyes across her body, assessing her form. Every curve and protrusion was just as he remembered them…even if the memories were mostly filled with the curve's stretching in an attempt to latch onto him, even if he had scratched the color out of the protrusions in an attempt to rid her of the intolerable clothing. He smiled mockingly. "Ah my dear it has been far too long, correct?" He asked waiting for her to answer how many years they had been apart.

"Twenty years in fact as I recall. A bit too long if you ask me." She said stepping forward with a gentle sway of her hips to add the seductive look that resonated from her pupils, only enhanced by the bright green which surrounded them. He met her steps in the dance which took place whenever a fight for dominance was to be take place, he would make sure to win. He was thrown off when she slid past him and sat lounging on the sofa, picking up a discarded glass of a red substance and sipping it gently. She eyed him with interest as he took a seat opposite her, an air of confidence and charm plastered about in a well shaped façade.

"So my dear if I may ask, what alias are you going by now?" He asked knowing well that she didn't like to talk business with him. She seemed slightly surprised but it quickly passed. "Currently none…I'm…in the shadows if you will. So I give you permission to say my real name." She swished the content of her glass with a frown. "It's almost time." She said after a moment. Reaver grimaced, but hid it, so as not to allow her to become knowledgeable of his slight anxiety. "I'm aware." He answered offhandedly.

"Have you found a fitting sacrifice?" She asked quietly staring fixedly at him. He shrugged in reply.  
"Not yet, but it'll be simple enough."  
"You know the court doesn't like to be kept waiting." She said casually picking at her nails. He glared at her heatedly.  
"I'd rather not discuss that macabre arrangement now. Change the topic please." He said annoyed slightly.

"Remember that wonderfully exotic experiment we did thirty years ago?" She asked smirking like a devil about to jump on a passerby fully ready for the feast. Reaver mirrored her smirk.

"How could I ever forget Constance? You are speaking of the ice are you not?" He asked placing his glass down preparing for what would soon come.  
"Hmm." She hummed in reply. "Yes that delightful night…have you learned anything new?" She asked watching as she saw the predator gleam glint beneath his dark lashes. "When don't I?" He asked offhandedly as his hand was suddenly grasping her hair in a vice like grip as he tilted her head back, her lips parted in surprise and slight pain. He took it upon himself to dive right then and there into the opening that formed between the two plump pieces of flesh. He pulled back a triumphant grin plastered to his features as he saw that Constance was staring at him in surprise. "What, straight to it then?"

"You don't approve?" He asked mimicking disappointment. Mistaking this as sincere Constance was grabbing at the ruffles about his neck. "Quite the opposite." She whispered as her lips found his ear, she licked the crevice and bit aggressively on the lobe until she heard his growl. She pulled back only to have her wrist grasped as he pulled her up a flight of stairs, down a hallway and into a room dimly lit with candles. Reaver wasted no time as he threw her onto the bed. Within second he was ripping off her shirt, then her chest bindings.

_He's gotten faster._

He caught her chin in his finger and brought his lips to hers softly, almost compassionately. She kissed back, he licked her lips and she allowed his tongue to grapple with hers as she fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. He pulled back, and she practically slapped him in frustration.

"Ah, ah! Not yet…first…" Reaver said smiling sadistically as cupped a breast in his hand. He squeezed and smiled when she squirmed. Without hesitation his tongue found its way to her nipples, licking the mounds in admiration. Her fingers ran through his hair. He allowed his tongue to travel to her navel, licking the sensitive patch of skin where the triangular arrow pointed to her entrance. He cupped her face as he searched her eyes. They gazed at each other for a moment before Reaver went to his night stand and pulled out a piece of cloth. Hesitating slightly when he made to tie it about her eyes, she eventually allowed the cloth to cause her vision to be opaque. She hated being unaware. The rustling sound of clothing and movement was her only indication that she wasn't alone.

Eventually Reaver returned pushing her gently onto her back he laid on his side next to her. Then the sensation came. To light, to ticklish and tantalizing beyond belief. She knew what it was of course, a feather. He spun it lazily about each of her mounds before sending it down her stomach where he paused a moment to remove the trousers she had chosen to wear. The heat that pooled in her stomach was only twisted tighter as the feather moved down lower, dancing over her most intimate curls, playing across the folds that hid in embarrassment from Reaver's caresses. The feather was removed and replaced with hands as they slid down her flanks in encouragement. He wagged his fingers gently over the nub of nerves that caused every woman to cry out in dubious ecstasy. She bit her lip, a drop of blood coming forth when he did so. And as quickly as it had come it was gone, the blindfold was removed and she found herself face to face with the suave pirate king. Her eyes fell to the heart shaped birthmark which sat upon his cheek. How many times had she traced her fingers over that very mark?

His hands were wrapping around her now, as she gripped his hair and shoulders tightly in anticipation. He entered her then, roughly, aggressively, lustfully, and lovingly. She moaned then, she couldn't help it, he had always had this affect on her, no one else. He had been the one however many centuries ago it had been to make the deal with him, to appease to the shadow court as well. At the time they had only been friends, for his love was with another. But when that had come to an end it became mutually beneficial for the two tricksters to keep in contact, after all they had all eternity to discuss.

She cried out when he thrust into her particularly hard. He bit into her shoulder and drew blood; he allowed one of his hands to move between her thighs where the slap of skin on skin was taking place. Here he pressed gently on the nub of nerves which caused her hips to buck uncontrollably, he smirked as he felt her convulse around him, as her fingers gripped wildly at his hair, but even as she allowed the waves of pleasure to wash over her he continued to move within her, until they were but a tangle of limbs lying about in exhaustion.

Reaver was toying with a piece of Constance's hair as he whispered sweet nothing's into her ear. He then perched himself on an elbow. "I apologize my dear…we didn't have time for me to teach you my new tricks." Constance smiled maliciously as she suddenly straddled him a gleam of pure childish excitement filling her eyes.

"That's alright." And here she leaned down to place her forehead on his own. "I have tricks of my own."


End file.
